Screaming Without Lungs
by Hello Witty
Summary: Breaking up was never easy, but Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are about to discover that putting the pieces back   together was an even harder thing to do. Five years after the war, their paths cross again. DM/HG, with heavy HP/HG and some GW/BZ.
1. Let me out of this dream

**Screaming without Lungs**

Outside the rain's falling down,  
There's not a drop that hits me.  
Scream at the sky with no sound,  
is leaving my lips.  
It's like I can't even feel,  
After the way you touched me.  
I'm not asleep, but I'm not awake,  
After the way you loved me.

I can't turn this around  
I keep running into walls that I can't break down.  
I said I just wander around,  
With my eyes wide shut because of you,  
I'm a sleepwalker.

- Adam Lambert, Sleepwalker

"Get your hands off of me!"

Draco yanked Hermione's hand from his shoulder, leaving Hermione completely speechless at his actions. She struggled for words, and to her surprise, finding none. Draco opened his mouth to say something – he hadn't meant it, of course, but just like Hermione, Draco was stunned to find that he too was at a loss of words. Both of them stayed that way for a while, staring at each other, questions being asked through the silence.

One look at Hermione's hurt eyes and Draco felt a gut wrench itself. He wanted to say he didn't mean it, tell her that he loved her more than she'll ever know, but alas, he knew it was for the best. He felt a now familiar searing pain shoot through his left arm, and he knew it was time. The Death Eaters were coming, and they wanted him to open the vanishing cabinet.

Tonight was the night Hogwarts would fall.

He looked around the Head's common room, knowing that this will be the last time he would ever see it like this, and then took one last look at Hermione. He grabbed her arms, yanking her up, lifted her chin, and kissed her roughly. It wasn't long before he pulled back though. He looked into her eyes again, and he hugged her tightly. He whispered a faint, 'I love you.' He wasn't sure if she heard it, but he didn't mind. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"What ever you do tonight, Granger, do not get out of this common room. Do you understand me?"

Hermione just looked at him, she clearly didn't understand what was going on, but Draco didn't need her to.

"Don't just look at me like that, Granger! Promise me!" He forced, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her, urgency evident in both his eyes and voice.

"Draco, whatever it is you're going to do, please don't do it." Hermione begged, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. Draco shut his eyes, and bit his lip.

"I can't do that." He said his eyes shut, fighting back the tears he knew would come. "Please don't make this harder for me than it already is."

"Dumbledore can help you, Draco." Hermione reasoned. "Whatever that is, Dumbledore… the Order can help you!"

Draco winced; the pain in his left arm was almost unbearable. Hermione noticed this and tried to reach out once again, but Draco held out his right hand, stopping her. Once the pain began to subside, he turned around, and upon reaching the portrait hole, he looked back at Hermione.

"No one can help me now, Hermione." He said, a sad smile etched on his face. "Just please stay here."

Hermione nodded. Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and let go of her, making his way to the portrait hole. Once out he found Eros and Psyche, the two in the portrait, asleep in each others arms. He knew that that was what he wanted the most, falling asleep with Hermione in his arms, but he knew he'd given up all the rights to do that when he got out the Heads' dormitory.

"Protego maxima." He said, waving his wand, and once he saw that the enchantment was complete, he half-ran to the seventh floor, to the Room of Requirement.

Draco was scared; though that wasn't something he would freely admit to anyone. If by some chance he didn't do this right, he will lose everything.

He'd already lost Hermione.

Hermione. He didn't want to think about her. She was the only person who'd believed in him, but he'd let her down.

Passing thrice by the hall with the Room of Requirement, the door presented itself to him. He opened the door, and shut it fast behind him, careful not to let anyone see him. Though he found this action totally unnecessary, since everyone would know it was him anyway.

'Fuck it.' He thought, grabbing the nearest object he could find – an apple – and approached the Vanishing Cabinet. He opened it, and set the apple inside. He stopped for a while, knowing that once he closed the cabinet, it wouldn't be long before Hogwarts would fall.

He still had a chance, didn't he? To go to Dumbledore?

But then the old coot was with Potter – or so Hermione told him – out doing something presumably questionable. Draco shuddered at the thought.

Hogwarts was his home. It had been for the past six years – and how ironic it was to him, how he was going to be an instrument of the destruction of the only place he called home. Closing the cabinets' doors, Draco knew it wasn't the time to be sentimental. It was this, or his mother's head, possibly Hermione's too, if he wasn't too careful.

It wasn't fair. Having to choose between his mother and the girl he held so dear – yet time and again, the world hadn't failed to get him to notice that life was never fair. Draco stood there, in front of the cabinet, half-hoping that the plan would fail, but seconds later, the cabinet doors burst open, revealing his Aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange and a few other Death Eaters.

His aunt let out a maniacal laugh and skipped out of the Room of Requirement, the Death Eaters following her, minus the skipping.

He watched them go with only one thought on his mind.

"What have I done?"

* * *

"Hermione? Hermione! Wake up!" called an urgent voice.

Hermione eyes shot open as she let out an ear-splitting scream. There was sweat trickling down her forehead, her heart was beating fast, and her breathing was uneven. She looked around, and finally her eyes fixed on the man holding her.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, hugging the man tight, tears pouring from her eyes.

"Hey." He said, soothingly, rubbing her back.

"When did you get back?" Hermione asked in between sobs. Harry continued to stroke her back in an attempt to calm her down.

"Around five minutes ago." Harry said slightly chuckling. "Got up here as fast as I could. I could hear you screaming from downstairs."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Hermione said, looking up to her best-friend-turned-lover's eyes. Harry smirked, pulling her closer to him. "H-hey!"

The man had only responded with a barely audible chuckle, and pulled her face close to his. He smiled at Hermione's apparent surprise, and as she opened her mouth to protest, Harry brought her lips to his, silencing her with a kiss.

Hermione broke away first, pouting. "No fair."

He let go of her for a while, getting out of bed, taking his shoes and his shirt off, as Hermione went back to her original position at the right hand side of the bed. Harry smiled. With Hermione around, he couldn't see a reason not to. He made his way to his side of the bed, opening the covers and laying himself down.

Hermione inched closer to Harry, who wrapped his left arm around her, resting her head somewhere below his shoulder.

"I see that you're wearing my shirt." Harry said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, his eyes on the oversized blue shirt Hermione was currently wearing. It might be oversized, but it looked nice on her. Then again, in his eyes, everything looked nice on her…and loads nicer off her. Hermione opened her mouth, possibly to explain, but Harry stopped her by saying, "It looks better on you than it does on me."

Hermione relaxed a bit, placing her hand on Harry's chest. The two lay in silence for a while, though both knew neither of them was going to sleep...well, at least yet. Harry turned to his side and kissed Hermione's forehead, and gave her a smile.

"Was it that dream again?" He asked, calmly.

"Y-yes."

The dream was a particularly touchy subject between Hermione and Harry. They had been together for three years now, and even then, Hermione still refused to tell him what the dream was about – and not too long ago, it had caused a fight between the two.

Hermione had decided that it was better that Harry didn't know that the dream was about her former lover. It was quite an unnecessary complication in their relationship – or so she reasoned with herself.

"Oh." Was all Harry could say, before he noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep again, and that she looked rather peaceful this time. Once he made sure that she really was asleep, Harry kissed her forehead again, and he took off his glasses, careful not to make any unnecessary movements. He didn't want to wake her.

Not too long later, he himself fell asleep.

* * *

Draco Malfoy wasn't amused. It was two in the morning, and he was still in a muggle bar drinking what appeared to be scotch – or, 'Jack' as the muggles called it. It's been four long years since Hermione disappeared from the world of wizards without so much as anyone knowing where she was headed.

four long years of him searching and finding nothing.

For Merlin's sake, he was Draco sodding Malfoy! At twenty-two, already the highest paid prosecutor for the Wizengamot. He was supposed to know these kinds of things!

"Bartender!" he almost demanded. The man looked at Draco – who apparently was the last customer in the bar – weirdly. Draco rolled his eyes. He wasn't even close to drunk yet, and he'd already had around four bottles of the damn thing.

He needed Firewhisky, but wasn't in any mood to move from where he was seated. The bartender approached him tentatively, holding another bottle of Jack with him. The bartender opened it, of course, and gave Draco another shot glass full.

"We're closing up," the bartender said, treading cautiously. It seemed to even him that Draco wasn't anyone to mess with. Draco drained the glass of whatever liquid it had left, and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred pound bill.

"Keep the change." Draco said, stalking out of the bar.

Muggle London. Totally unfamiliar to Draco, but there he was, his hands in his pockets, not really caring where his feet took him, and probably the only thing keeping him going was the thought of finding her, the thought of finding Hermione Granger somewhere in a city he knew not of.

It's been days, and he's still empty handed.

Almost to his disgust, Draco found himself outside the Wizard Pub, the Leaky Cauldron. How he ended up there, he didn't know. He once promised himself he wouldn't get back here without Hermione – but right now, it seemed to him that that wasn't something would happen over night – hell, he's been in the muggle world for two weeks, and still nothing.

He sighs. Walking into the pub, and walking straight to and through the back door, avoiding anyone's gazes. He grabbed his wand from inside his coat, and tapped the bricks that would get him access into Diagon Alley. The bricks moved slowly at first, and moments later finally becoming an archway for him to pass through.

In the end, those who don't want to be found wouldn't expose themselves so easily.

He laughed mirthlessly. This was exactly the thing he was trying to prevent all those years ago.

He wouldn't admit it, but Draco Malfoy did lose everything that night. His mother, the woman he loved, and the last shred of innocence he had left.

* * *

Yes, my Harry is almost too sweet. OK fine, he is too sweet. I just think seven years of pent-up emotions and sexual tension would make the man sweeter, so, yeah. Hello guys! It's me again, Chasing City Lights / Rouge Red Queen. I am almost tempted to change my username again. Anyho. Thank you for reading Screaming Without Lungs! This fanfiction is going to either replace Chasing Pavements, or just be another one of my projects. That's for YOU to decide, though. Reviews, please? :)

PS: I do not own anything you recognize, and there might be song lyrics up there, but this fanfiction is by no means a song fic.

- Reese / Chasing City Lights.


	2. What do you want from me?

II.

Hermione awoke to the smell of a possibly amazing breakfast. She rubbed her eyes, as she was having a bit of trouble adjusting to the light. She remembered only so little of last night that it confused her. Harry was back from his Auror mission, that dream, and falling asleep in Harry's arms.

She quite liked the last bit though. She could hear footsteps from outside the room, and she knew Harry would be coming in any second, probably already done bathing and with two fresh, steaming mugs of coffee. Sure enough, not a minute later, he was there, standing at the foot of their bed, in nothing but a pair of green sweatpants, his shaggy, wet hair still sort of dripping, and a towel on his neck, his green eyes lighting up at the sight of seeing her awake.

As Hermione had expected, he'd already taken a bath, but he had food with him, and not just mugs of coffee. He was carrying a tray with what looked like waffles from a distance, a bottle of maple syrup, bacon and eggs, and the coffee Hermione wanted.

Hermione would never admit this, but a shirtless Harry Potter still continued to make Hermione blush fiercely until today, and figured that Harry still continued to find Hermione's reaction to his shirtless self 'incorrigible, since she'd seen him shirtless countless times.

"Hey, you." Harry greeted the still entranced Hermione. Hermione shook her head and looked away, the blush more evident now. She sighed.

"Good morning love," she greeted, still looking away, hoping that the dreaded shade of pink left her face. The sound of Harry's laugh filled the room as he went and as beside her.

"Breakfast?" He offered, to the girl who still tried looking away. He rolled his eyes. "C'mon Mione, it's not exactly a sin to blush in the sight of some shirtless bloke, even if you've already been to bed with said bloke more than once."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in indignation.

"Only joking, love," He said smiling to himself. Hermione's eyebrow shot up, causing Harry to hold his hands up in surrender, when Hermione started laughing.

"You know," she started in between small fits of laughter, "A smirk like that can so rival Malfoy's smirk."

"Malfoy? You're thinking of that slimy git at a time like this?" Harry asked, bemused.

"Harry James Potter! Language!"

Harry didn't seem to find anything wrong with his language and simply gave her a look of pure innocence, which of course, Hermione had learned over the years, not to trust so easily. After all, it was one of the reasons she loved him.

Deciding that they'd never get breakfast like this, Harry took the liberty of feeding Hermione – one bacon strip at a time. She followed suit, and started cutting the waffle up with the neglected fork and fed him, albeit slower than he did for her. They both laughed at themselves.

"I love you, you know that?" Harry said, lifting Hermione's chin, causing their foreheads to meet, but not their lips. He gave her a small smile and like always, he waited for her reply.

Hermione chuckled. "I love you too, Harry."

As soon as they finished breakfast and cleaning up around the bedroom, Harry took the tray from Hermione, telling her to go 'take a shower or something', as he took the dirty dishes down. Hermione pouted, telling him that he babied her too much; but Harry just laughed and said, "I haven't been home in a month, Mione. Besides, it must've been tiring doing this by yourself."

"But—you should be resting, Harry!" Though no sooner were the words out of her mouth, Harry had bolted. 

* * *

Draco lay in bed, shutting his eyes even tighter as the harsh rays of unwelcomed sunlight invaded his room. He groaned and turned his back against it, throwing his thick blankets over his head in a sorry attempt to get back to sleep, but alas, it doesn't happen. He wrinkled his nose realizing that his room smelled of cigars and alcohol, which wasn't a very nice smell for certain. He struggled to push the blanket off him – only the blanket seemed heavier today for some reason. Then he heard it, there was a groan coming from the other side of his bed.

Oh right.

Last night, Draco Malfoy had bought home a whore from a brothel in Knockturn Alley. She was this petite, blond girl, green eyes and from what he could remember, she was a good enough shag. He remembered telling her to go home in the morning, and that he didn't want to see her there when he woke up.

And yet here she was.

"You." He said; his tone unpleasant. "Get out of my room."

The woman didn't move an inch. Asleep? Fuck it.

There was a crash, signaling that something dropped from the nightstand and broke, but Draco dare not trouble himself with that for now. After a minute of trying, he finally found his wand and waved it, closing the green curtains and blocking the sunlight – however, by this time, sleep had completely evaded him.

He groaned in frustration, rolled around in bed, eyes still shut, and winced at a sharp pain in his forehead.

"Blinky!" He half yelled, and on cue, there was a pop signaling the arrival of the house elf he had just called.

"Yes, m-m-master?" The poor elf said, obviously frightened. On good days, Draco got along fairly well with the house elves, but on days where he had hangovers such as this, the house elves tended to want to stay clear of the man. Sensing Blinky's apparent fear, Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you silly elf. Just get me a hangover potion this instant." Draco paused, "Oh, and get rid of the girl."

"R-r-right away, master!" The elf said, disappearing with a pop – the girl with her – just like the way it came.

Draco put his hand over his head, massaging it. Times like these he'd wish he'd have someone else to do it, as even moving hurt for him in his current state. He lay there, waiting, staring at the very same ceiling he awoke to for the past twenty years as it was, and it was strange how he didn't find it comforting.

With another pop, the tiny house elf reappeared with a vial of clear liquid, placed the potion on Draco's waiting hands. The house elf was trembling, she was, and Draco found that very odd, considering that he didn't do or say anything that might cause the elf to do so. Draco pulled out the cork on the vial and drank the vial's contents, not stopping until the last drop was gone.

He gave the vial back to the house elf, who had visibly relaxed now.

"What time is it?" Draco asked the elf.

"It is three in the afternoon, master." The elf responded in a tiny voice.

"Bullocks." Draco said, getting up from his bed, when Blinky tried to stop him.

"Master, it is unwise to get up in your current state! Master must rest!"

"As much as I'd love to, Blinky, but Blaise is coming—" Draco paused, because as if on cue, Blaise Zabini had arrived from wherever he came from. "—well I'll be damned. He's already here."

"Bloody hell," Blaise swore when he saw Draco who was still in his pajamas. He gave Draco a disapproving look before he went and sat himself down on a chair in one of the corners of Draco's room.

"Blaise, what do you want?"

"I haven't seen my drinking buddy in two weeks, and that's how he greets me."

"Touché," Draco said, making his way to his closet. "Now what is it you really want?"

Blaise sighed. He waited on Draco to come back into the room after disappearing into his walk-in closet before speaking. A few seconds later, Draco emerged from the closet, now in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, and a blue hooded shirt. Blaise found it amusing that his friend chose to dress his own age, especially after the years of watching him emerge from that very same closet in business outfits.

Blaise actually did care for Draco, despite what others might say. He considered Draco the sibling he didn't have; and considering that they've been friends since they were… well, babies, he found it hard to actually hate the man, especially since he'd known what he'd went through just five short years ago.

"Well?" Draco asked him impatiently.

"I know you went looking for her again." Blaise said, in a bored voice.

"And so…?"

"Listen," Blaise said carefully, as he didn't know what the news would mean to Draco. "You're my best mate, and I thought I'd tell you something that just might get the girl back to you, although it may require some force."

Draco felt a muscle twitch as Blaise said this, but he paid no mind. "I'm listening."

"The Ministry is planning to put up a Marriage Law." Blaise started, making a note on his friend's reaction. "All witches and wizards – and yes I do mean all, even those who do not reside in Wizarding London – so long as they're British citizens and of ages eighteen to forty must find a partner and get married within three months' time, if not, the Ministry itself will assign a partner for them."

"And how am I supposed to get Granger back like this?"

"Assuming she isn't married to anyone, it should be easy." The other boy said now with a rather bored expression on his face.

"And what if she actually does have someone?"

"All is fair in love and war, Draco." Blaise quoted, and there a mischievous glint on his eyes. "As long as she's not married, she's all yours; and I'm sure you know how far money goes in the Ministry."

Draco chuckled mirthlessly. "She'd hate me even more, Blaise."

"You have no real proof of her hating you, Draco. In case you've forgotten."

"She didn't even want to talk to me when we got back to Hogwarts!"

"Ah, but she didn't she obviously didn't hate you – because if she did, she wouldn't have testified for you and I would've lost my drinking buddy years ago."

Draco took that into consideration, but what really was there between him and Hermione now? Loads of things unsaid, of course, but what else was there? He didn't want to have to condemn himself to having to marry her if all she did was look at him with disdain, and have the desire to curse him to oblivion.

And what if she really was with someone else now? Would he really want to subject her to losing someone she loved because he was being selfish? But… all was fair in love and war, wasn't it?

"When are they going to decree that?"

"In a week. You might want to take your pick now. I can arrange for it later." Blaise said, playing with a quill he had picked up from the floor no more than seconds ago.

"Can you at least find her first?"

"Haven't we been through this before?"

"Yes we have but—"

"Draco, I'd hate to break it to you, but even Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood don't know where she is, and they are her best friends."

"Then how is she even going to know about the decree?"

"She hasn't broken her wand, has she? So she still has to be in contact with someone from this world." Blaise reasoned. "Besides, if she doesn't do this, she'd be banished from the wizarding world, be obliviated and she wouldn't remember that any of this existed."

Draco sighed. "Why is the ministry doing this again?"

"Something about depleting numbers and an increase of people giving birth to squibs." Blaise said absentmindedly, his attention still fixed on the quill he had picked up a while ago.

There was a long pause. The room was silent—so silent that you would hear a pin drop. The tension was thick, and though Blaise tried not to pay attention to Draco's obvious internal struggle, he couldn't help but feel for the guy.

"Do it." Draco said, finally. "It's not like I have anything to lose."

Blaise had to admit, he was almost certain Draco would bash his head in for even suggesting marrying himself forcibly to Granger, whatever her name was. He knew that Draco actually did love the girl, and judging from his earlier reactions, Blaise didn't think that Draco would actually agree to something such as this. Blaise knew that if he were in a similar situation with his Ginny, he wouldn't do it.

But like he said only a while ago, all was fair in love and war.

And if Hermione didn't know that, well, she might as well learn now, shouldn't she?

* * *

And there you go. Screaming Without Lungs chapter two.  
Please leave reviews? :D Thank youuuuuu.

- Reese~


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